Robinson left without waiting for Friday,
in a rain-washed Thursday evening.
The train was unhurried, like cuttlefish,
on tracks without rails moved at random.
A coupe is a reserved seat - an inhabited island.
There "there are fine people-savages".
Loud silence with secret thoughts,
honest conversations under a dull rhythm,
selected by wheels, sleepers picked up,
an all-road song, "eternal you-gee-smoke ..."
And Thursday will end, Friday will be paid,
and the tears washed pale traces